Trippin'
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! Joe starts hearing voices and he thinks he is going crazy. But that is only the beginning. Larceny and murder enter the mix and Joe's freedom is on the line. how far will Frank go to help his brother?
1. Default Chapter

"You're no good," Joe heard someone say. He shook his head groggily and rolled over in bed. "You're a bad boy. Dad hates you. You can't do anything right," another voice joined the first. "Bad boy, worthless brat," the voices continued. Joe sat up in bed and looked around. No one was there. The window was closed and there was noting on that could be making the noises. He wasn't surprised. He had been hearing these voices for around a week now. Seventeen year old Joe Hardy climbed out of bed and stretched his six foot frame. He yawned and pushed a lock of his blond hair out of his eyes as he went into the bathroom. He grabbed a cup and filled it with water. He stared into the troubled blue eyes of his reflection for a moment before downing the water. Setting the cup down on the sink, he went back to bed. It didn't take him long to drift into a restless sleep.

"You're so stupid," Joe heard the voices as he neared the edge of consciousness again. Too groggy to open his eyes, he grabbed his pillow and pulled it around his ears to block out the noise. He curled up into a ball as the voices kept nagging at him. "Worthless. Bad. Useless. Not Frank. Never amount to anything," the voices just kept coming at him. He sat up in bed, clamping his hands over his ears, silent tears threading down his cheeks. "Stop it, please stop it," he begged softly of no one.

When Joe came down to breakfast the next morning he found his brown-haired, brown-eyed, year older brother devouring a stack of pancakes. "About time you came down," Frank said. "We have to leave for school in fifteen minutes." Joe made a face at him.

"Sit down, honey," his blond, petite mother instructed him. "You've got time for breakfast."

"Thanks," Joe said with a faint smile. "But I'm not really hungry."

"Aren't you feeling well?" asked his father, Fenton Hardy, an older version of Frank. He looked at Joe with concern because he knew Joe was most always hungry.

"I didn't sleep well," Joe said with a shrug.

"Again?" Frank asked, frowning. "That's almost a week now."

"You'll probably have to watch what you eat before bed," Laura said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Joe agreed, although he hadn't eaten anything since supper last night. "I'll wait for you in the van," Joe told Frank and grabbed his backpack from beside the kitchen door on his way out.

"A week?" Fenton asked Frank.

"Yeah," Frank said. "He's starting to show the effects," he added, remembering Joe's bloodshot eyes.

"Maybe you two should come straight home after school," Fenton suggested. "Try and get Joe take a nap." Frank nodded.

"I'm going to call Dr. Bates and arrange for him to have a physical," Laura said. "It's been almost a year since his last one. Maybe he can give Joe something to help him sleep."

"But will he take anything?" Frank asked, getting up and carrying his dishes to the sink. "You know he hates to even take aspirin."

"He may not have a choice," Laura said sternly.

Frank kissed his mom's cheek, told his parents good bye and picked up his backpack. He walked out to the van and saw Joe sitting behind the steering wheel, his head leaning against the headrest and his eyes squeezed shut tight as if he were in pain. "You okay?" Frank asked, worry wrinkling his brow as he opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

"I'm fine," Joe said, sitting up and starting the van. They drove to school in silence. Joe parked the van and they got out and walked inside.

"Hey guys!" they heard a familiar voice. They turned around and saw blond, beefy, Biff Hooper walking toward them. "Ready for that math exam?" he asked Joe.

"No," Joe said, suddenly dreading first period. "I didn't study much."

"You had plenty of time," Frank said to him. "You knew about this test three days ago."

"Not everyone is perfect like you!" Joe stormed at him. "So what if I flunk this test?" he demanded angrily, not noticing the look of shock on his brother's face or the students who had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. "It'll just be one more time I'm not as good a son as you are," he added before taking off down the hall.

"What was that all about?" Biff asked a stupefied Frank.

Frank shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear it. "I have no idea," he said. "But I'm going to find out," he added and started to go after Joe.

Biff grabbed Frank's arm, the bell ringing to announce first period. "Later, man," he said. "I'll talk to him." Frank frowned but nodded and took off for his first class.

Joe tried answering the questions on the test but everytime he wrote down an answer, he would erase it. Unable to concentrate, he finally marked all the multiple choice B and left the rest blank. He picked up his paper and carried it to his teacher. "I'm through," he said. "Can I be excused to go the restroom?" he asked.

Mrs. Andrews took Joe's paper and nodded her permission. Biff looked at Joe and bit his lip in frustration because he hadn't had a chance to talk to him. Biff looked at Mrs. Andrews as she graded Joe's paper. She started frowning as she marked the wrong ones on the first page. She flipped to the second page and her frown changed to a look of surprise followed by one of anger. She wrote something on his paper and laid it face down on her desk. Biff shook his head in wonder and went back to his own exam, dreading the scene he knew would come when Frank caught up to Joe at lunch.

After first period, Biff looked for Joe but couldn't find him. He had second period with Frank where he told Frank he hadn't been able to talk to Joe. After second period was lunch. Frank and Biff waited in the lunch room for Joe. They saw him pick up his tray and head toward their usual table, but to their surprise and the surprise of their other friends, Joe passed by them and took an empty table in the back of the lunchroom. Frank got up from the table he shared with his friends, and went over to where Joe was now sitting and sat down across from him.

"What's with you?" Frank demanded, a little harshly. He was still hurting from Joe's verbal attack earlier.

"I don't want any company," Joe said, stabbing his lasagna with force.

"Why not?" Frank demanded.

"Get a clue!" Joe said, standing up. "I don't want you around," he added, picking up his tray and starting to move away.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, jumping up and grabbing Joe's arm, causing his tray to drop. Joe looked at the mess in the floor, then back to Frank. Before a word could be said, Joe brought back his arm, made a fist and punched Frank so hard, he staggered backward, landing on top of a table filled with lunches behind him. 


	2. Chapter Two

Joe looked at his brother for only a second, then took off. He raced out of the cafeteria and into the parking lot. He climbed behind the wheel of the van, started the motor, and left school grounds.

Why had he done that? Joe asked himself. Frank hadn't done anything and yet here he was hitting Frank and yelling at him. "You're an idiot. You're stupid. You should never have been born. Dad's got Frank, he doesn't want you." It was the voices, Joe thought, gripping the wheel tight as they kept badgering him. They had started keeping him up at night, then, they would just nag him every now and then during the day. Now, they wouldn't quit. He couldn't take much more. 'Why wouldn't they stop?' he thought, closing his eyes in desperation.

A squeal of brakes and a blaring horn brought Joe back to reality. He opened his eyes, saw himself driving in the wrong lane and jerked the wheel to the right, slamming on his brakes. The van spun around twice before crashing into a light pole. Joe closed his eyes and cried as the voices kept telling him how bad he was.

"Joe," he heard a new voice in the mix. "Joe!" the voice shouted his name. He squeezed his eyes tighter, willing it to go away. That voice stopped but there was a knock on the window. Joe opened his eyes. Sergeant Con Riley, a friend of his and Frank's, was standing outside the van. The new voice had been his. Joe unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Stay there," Con ordered Joe, preventing him from getting out of the van. "An ambulance is on the way."

Joe shook his head. "I'm...I'm okay," Joe said loudly, trying to drown out the voices in his head.

"That's fine," Con said. "But I want you to stay put anyway until you've been checked out," he insisted.

"Was anyone hurt?" Joe asked, his blood shot eyes looking pleadingly into Con's own green ones.

"No," Con assured Joe. "You're the only one who hit anything." Joe gave a faint smile then laid his head back and shut his eyes. Soon the paramedics arrived and checked Joe out. Con had the van towed and Joe's parents called. Fenton arrived to pick Joe up.

"Are you okay, Son?" Fenton asked Joe, getting out of his car and coming over to where Joe was leaning against Con's police cruiser. Joe looked at his dad dully and nodded.

"The paramedics checked him out," Con informed Fenton. "He's fine but I think he could use some rest." Fenton nodded his agreement.

"Where's my ticket?" Joe asked Con as his dad took him by the arm and started to lead him away.

"I'm not giving you one," Con told Joe. "As long as you go home and get some rest."

Fenton drove Joe home in silence. He was angry with Joe for leaving school grounds in the middle of the day but Joe was obviously wrung out and needed some rest before he was grounded.

At home, Joe headed straight for his room. He never even went into the living room to let his mom know he was okay. He laid down and closed his eyes. The voices were still there. They hadn't left him alone all day. It didn't matter now, though, he was so tired, even they couldn't keep him awake.

He awoke several hours later and sat up. The voices were still there, but now they were saying something else. "Didn't work. Dad still isn't paying attention. Break into Maxines," the voices were saying. "Take the watch you wanted. That will make him pay attention to you. Take everything. He will have to pay attention to you," the voices kept harping, over and over. They were strong voices. Joe closed his eyes and swallowed as the tears threatened again.

"Joe?" Frank asked hesitantly from the bathroom door. The bathroom separated the brothers' rooms. "Feeling better?" he asked, afraid to come any closer.

Joe looked over at Frank. "Sorry about earlier," he apologized. "I don't know why I did that," he added, sadly.

"It's okay," Frank said, a little choked up himself because he could tell Joe was hurting. He only wished he knew why.

"No," Joe denied, his head bent. "It's not." He started crying. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he added softly. Frank came over and sat beside Joe. He put an arm around Joe's shoulders. "I think...," Joe started, then stopped and swallowed. "I think I'm going crazy," he said finally, looking up at Frank, his blood shot blue eyes full of fear.

"Just because you haven't had much sleep?" Frank asked, hugging Joe tight and moving a strand of blond hair from Joe's forehead. "Not a chance," he added softly. "When you get some more rest, you'll feel a lot better," he promised. "Listen baby brother," Frank said gently, taking Joe's chin and gazing steadily into Joe's eyes, willing Joe to accept the emotional support he was offering. "Pressure gets to us all. Even me," he added, smiling. "A couple of good night's sleep and you'll be good as new."

"Promise?" Joe pleaded.

"I promise," Frank vowed. "Lay back down," he added, rising. "Dr. Bates dropped by earlier. He left you some sleeping pills."

"No," Joe said. "I think I can sleep without them."

"Okay," Franks said, he had known Joe would respond that way. Ever since Biff's older brother had died from an over-dose, four years ago, Joe refused all medicine unless he was forced. "If you change your mind," he started.

"I'll let you know," Joe finished the thought for him, smiling vaguely. He lay back on the bed. "Thanks," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Any time little brother," Frank said softly, hearing Joe's breathing even out. He covered Joe up and went back to his own room and went to bed.

"You did it. He'll have to pay attention to you now," the voices were saying. Joe moved his head back and forth trying to get them out of his head. It wasn't working. He sat up and shivered. The window was open. He didn't remember opening it. Frank must have, but why? He went to the dresser to take out some fresh clothes. Pulling the drawer open, he gasped.

"You did it, You showed him," the voices kept talking in his head. He picked up the diamond studded Rolex watch he had seen in Maxine's less than a week ago and stared at it.

"Joe," Frank said, opening Joe's bedroom door. "Maxine's was robbed last night. It was just on the news," he added, coming inside. "Dad..." whatever he was about to say froze in his throat as he saw his younger brother standing there, watch in hand. 


	3. Chapter Three

"Where did you get that?" Frank asked, closing the door behind him as he came over to stand beside Joe.

"I...I...I found it," Joe stammered, more shocked than Frank.

"When?" Frank demanded. "Where?" he asked without waiting for an answer to the first question.

Joe swallowed nervously. "In my drawer," he answered truthfully. "How did it get there?" he asked Frank.

"Why don't you tell me?" Frank countered, the detective in him popping out before he thought about what he was saying.

Joe looked at Frank angrily. He couldn't believe Frank was accusing him of stealing. No matter what the circumstances, Frank should know him better than that. "How should I know?" he shouted at Frank. The voices in his head were talking faster. It was almost unbearable.

"What else is in your drawer?" Frank asked, coming over and looking inside. Lying there were about half a dozen more watches and a few necklaces and rings. "What have you done?" he asked, eyes wide.

"I took a watch for every day of the week," Joe told him and flung the Rolex in his hand at Frank. "Have one. I've got plenty!" he added, turning and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Frank watched Joe slam the door, then he gathered the jewelry up into a tee shirt, careful not to touch anything except for the Rolex Joe had thrown at him, and went to his father's study which he had converted into an office. "Dad," he said, going inside with the tee shirt. "We've got a problem."

Fenton looked up from his computer and watched Frank lay the tee shirt on his desk. Letting go of his hold, the shirt fell open to reveal the stolen jewelry and watches. Fenton gasped in amazement at the array then looked back to Frank who laid the Rolex on the desk beside the shirt. "They were in Joe's drawer," Frank stated.

"Joe?" Fenton asked, his brown eyes wide in disbelief. He stood up and went to Joe's room followed by Frank. They sat down on the bed to wait for Joe to come out of the bathroom.

Frank looked at the mess in his brother's room. Unlike Frank, Joe's room had magazines and comics scattered over the desk and dresser. Clothes were lying on the floor. Even Joe's shoes were lying in an awkward place. Frank bent down to pull Joe's half buried shoes from beneath a pile of CD cases. He picked them up and set them down where they could be seen, then picked one back up. It was damp near the bottom on the outside. His father saw what Frank was doing and got off the bed. He knelt down and felt for a wet spot on the floor where something might have spilt and got the shoes wet. No luck.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked, coming out of the bathroom and finding his brother and father snooping around. He had a towel around his waist and another wrapped around his neck to catch the dribbling water from his wet blond hair.

"Where did you go last night?" Fenton asked Joe, standing up and looking Joe in the eyes.

"No where," Joe replied. "I slept all night."

"Your shoes are damp," Frank said. "Like you ran through the grass earlier," he stated his observation.

"You think I broke into Maxine's," Joe accused his dad and brother, disillusionment written on his face. How could they even think that?

"Did you?" Fenton asked before Frank could say a word.

"It definitely got your attention," Joe sneered, agreeing with the voices in his head.

"You did," Fenton said sadly.

"No," Joe told him, not really sure. "But if that's what you want to believe, have me arrested. I'll be at school," he added, picking up his clothes from the floor and returning to the bathroom to dress. When he came back out Frank and his father had gone. Joe put on his shoes, grabbed his backpack and went downstairs. He could hear his family talking in the kitchen so he left by the front door.

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"Don't you just hate him," he heard the voices in his head start as he sat on the school steps watching the janitor mow the lawn. "He should die. He's a nobody. You'd be somebody if you killed him." Joe closed his eyes, his face scrunched into a grimace of pain as he listened to his evil thoughts. Why were the voices speaking to him? Why did they say such terrible things? Why did he feel like killing someone?

"Joe," he heard a loud voice from in front of him.

"What is it?" Joe snapped at Vanessa Bender, his blond-headed, hazel-eyed seventeen year old girlfriend.

"I just wanted to know if you were alright," she said, hurt by his tone.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just go away," he added.

Vanessa's eyes started watering but she turned away before Joe could see. "You're going to be late," she told him and strode off for her class.

Joe stayed on the steps, watching the janitor. The bell rang announcing first period, but he ignored it.

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Joe stepped out of the bathroom after second period and looked around. Everyone was trying to look out the window at the back of the school. "You did good," the voices were saying. "Now everyone will pay attention to you," they continued. Joe shook his head to clear it. he seemed to be in a daze. He turned to go to his locker when an announcement came over the loud speaker.

"Everyone, please go to the gymnasium," Principal Falkner said. "The police are on their way and have requested everyone be gathered in the gymnasium," he continued. "Please proceed in an orderly manner. Thank you."

"Why are the police on their way?" Joe asked Craig Stevewns who had fourth period with him.

"Someone killed the janitor."


	4. Chapter Four

Joe's face drained of color. He went back into the boys' room and stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. "You did it," the voices were still telling him. "Now everyone will notice you." The tears fell down his cheeks as his eyes stayed on the mirror even though Joe could no longer see his own reflection.

After a few minutes, Joe exited the room again. He walked over to the back window and looked down. He saw the janitor's body and two officers taping off the area. He saw Frank arguing with Bayport's tall, graying chief of police, Ezra Collig. There were three other men, officers in plainclothes he knew, collecting samples of things into small plastic bags.

Joe backed away from the window and headed for the exit. In less than two minutes time he walked over to where his brother and Chief Collig were arguing. Chief Collig held a chain and pendant in his hand which Joe recognized as one given to him by a friend of his who lived in Jamaica. The other officers stopped what they were doing to watch the scene as Joe approached.

"Joe, don't say anything," Frank told him before he could say anything.

"I have to," Joe told him, starting to cry in front of everyone. "I don't remember killing him," he told his astonished brother and Chief Collig. "But they say I did, so I guess I did."

"They who?" Chief Collig asked, looking at the boy he had known for well over ten years with sympathy.

"Them," Joe said, crying and putting his hands over his ears as he fell to his knees. "They won't shut up," he added, crying even harder.

"Joe," Frank said softly, falling to his knees beside his baby brother and pulling him close.

Several hours later, Frank sat with his parents in Chief Collig's office. Joe had finally calmed down and had been placed under arrest for murdering Jeff Cornett, the high school janitor, and for robbing Maxines. At the police station he had been taken to a secure area and Dr. Kevin Wagner, a psychologist from the Corwin Institute, had been called in to evaluate Joe's mental state. After talking with Joe, Dr. Wagner had requested a transcript of Joe's educational performance.

Chief Collig's door opened and Frank jumped to his feet as a large man with brown hair and green eyes walked in the door. "I'm Dr. Wagner," he said, coming inside. Fenton and Laura rose to their feet anxiously.

"How is he?" Laura asked.

"Has Joe been having any problems at home?" Dr. Wagner asked them.

"He hasn't been sleeping well," Frank responded.

"Have you noticed any change in his behavior?" Dr. Wagner became more specific.

"He's been getting angry a lot lately," Frank replied a little hesitantly. "Especially at me," he added, with an apologetic look at his parents. "He and I have gotten into a couple of quarrels at school," he explained.

"Was this before or after the car accident yesterday that Joe told me about?" the doctor asked.

"Before," Frank replied glumly, knowing the accident couldn't be the cause of Joe's strange behavior.

"After talking to him and viewing the rapid decline in his grades, I think it would be best if Joe were admitted to Corwin..." he paused as protests arose from all three Hardys. He held up his hand and they quietened down. "I'm sorry," he continued. "But I really believe it best if Joe have a complete mental evaluation and that has to be done at Corwin."

"He's not crazy!" Frank shouted.

"Easy," Fenton ordered Frank, grabbing his arm. "I don't want to admit it either," he said, his eyes bright, "but Joe hasn't been himself lately. You know that."

"That doesn't mean he's crazy," Frank argued.

"Easy, Son," Dr. Wagner said calmingly to Frank. "I am not suggesting Joe is insane. He may have a chemical imbalance in the brain or he may be perfectly all right and something else may be the matter. However," he continued, "if Joe is ill, we need to know for sure."

"I'll have him transferred to Corwin," Chief Collig told the Hardys. "Dr. Wagner will be in charge of the evaluation."

"He'll be fine," Laura told Frank, trying to reassure herself as much as Frank. She put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him.

Fenton looked at his wife and son and then back to Chief Collig. If Joe didn't turn out to be mentally unbalanced then he would have to stand trial for murder and robbery. Either way, Joe was a loser. He let the tears start falling.

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Breakfast at the Hardy home the next morning was a somber affair. Sometime during the night Frank had come to the same realization as his father. "Dad, we've got to find out who killed the janitor," he said, setting his fork down and pushing back his plate of pancakes which were mostly untouched.

"You're right," Fenton agreed, also giving up the pretence of eating. "Can you get Chet and the others to help?"

"No problem," Frank assured him.

"I'll find out all I can about the robbery at Maxine's. We have to clear Joe on both charges," he stated.

"What if he did kill Cornett and rob Maxine's?" Laura asked, voicing the fear they all faced.

"He didn't," Frank said with a conviction he didn't really feel. "And..( he swallowed) and we'll prove it." He stood up. "I'll let you know what we find out," Frank promised his dad before leaving for school.

"Frank!" he heard his name called as he got out of his mom's car. The van was still in the garage for repairs from Joe's accident. He turned around and saw his blond-headed, green eyed, seventeen year old girlfriend, Callie Shaw waving at him. She was sitting on the lawn with Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa, Biff, and two other friends, dark haired, dark eyed, olive-skinned Tony Prito and Chet Morton. Chet was a chubby fellow with short blond hair and green eyes. He was also Frank's and Joe's best friend.

"How's Joe?" Chet asked as Frank sprawled on the lawn beside Callie.

"Not good," Frank replied. "He thinks he's gone crazy," he added, with a frown.

"We've known he was for years," Callie said, joking. Frank gave her a disapproving look. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I know this is serious."

"I need your help," Frank said, sitting up and looking at his circle of friends. "We've got to find out who killed Cornett."

"I thought Joe confessed," Biff said, a puzzled look on his face.

"He did," Frank admitted. "But he also said he didn't remember doing it. Joe's no killer," he said angrily.

"They found his necklace lying beside the janitor's body," Vanessa said. "And he missed his first two classes."

"You think he did it?" Frank demanded, looking at her in disbelief.

"Not if he knew what he was doing," Vanessa replied. "But, well, he hasn't been himself lately."

"I thought you cared about Joe," Frank said in disgust.

"I do!" she shouted. "That's why I want him to get help."

"Your kind of help he doesn't need," Frank snarled at her, his brown eyes flashing daggers.

"Fine!" Vanessa screamed. "I'll stay out of your way," she vowed. Standing up, she snatched her backpack from the grass and strode away angrily.

"What can we do to help?" Chet asked after Vanessa had disappeared from sight.

"Dad's gone to the mall," Frank informed them. "He's going to try and clear Joe of the robbery at Maxine's. What we.."

"Back up," ordered Biff, interrupting him. "What's this about Maxine's?"

"Maxine's was robbed night before last and we found the stuff in Joe's drawer yesterday morning," Frank explained. "I know," he said, before anyone could speak. "It looks bad, but why would he do that? Joe's too smart to hide something in such an obvious place even if he had robbed the place," Frank reasoned.

The Hardys' friends remained quiet. Even if Joe were guilty, Frank needed them now more than ever and they knew if they said anything against Joe, he would turn on them as he had on Vanessa.

"We need to find out who killed the janitor," Frank continued. "Joe didn't have a motive, but someone must have."

"Have they set Joe's bond yet?" Callie asked.

Frank shook his head. "They sent him for a complete psychiatric evaluation," he replied. "If...when he passes, then they'll set it." No one mentioned Frank's slip of the tongue.

The bell rang and everyone got to their feet and went inside.

After school they all gathered at the pizzeria. "Everyone liked him," Chet told the group, helping himself to a slice of pizza. "I talked to the principal and half the teachers."

"I checked his personnel file," Callie said. She helped out in the office occasionally as the secretary's assistant. "He went to Southport High School and graduated six years ago. He worked as janitor for Stoneberg Manufacturing until the plant closed and then moved here."

"Does he have any family?" Frank asked.

"He has a sister listed to contact in case of emergency. Stephanie Brown. I guess she'll be in charge of his funeral."

"Did you find out anything?" Tony asked Frank.

Frank frowned but answered truthfully. "No one I talked to had seen anyone arguing with him except Joe."

"They argued?" Biff asked in surprise. "What about?"

"Steve said Jim jumped on Joe for crashing into a display case housing the trophies for the chess tournament," Frank informed them. "Joe told him it was an accident but Jim thought Joe was doing it because football players generally put down the chess club."

"That's ridiculous," Callie said. "Joe goes to all your chess matches," she told Frank.

"When do you get to see Joe?" Chet asked after no one had spoken for a time.

"Not until tomorrow," Frank replied, his face now in a permanent frown. "Dr. Wagner insisted Joe not be disturbed during the evaluation." Not in the mood to socialize, Frank stood up, said his goodbyes and headed home.

When he got there, his parents were getting into his dad's car. "Come on," Fenton urged Frank who locked his mom's car and climbed into the back seat of his dad's.

"What's going on?" Frank demanded as his dad backed out of the driveway.

"Joe's being admitted to Corwin as a resident," Laura said, crying.

"He got violent," Fenton explained. "He attacked the doctor."

"His evaluation?" Frank asked, his head hurting.

"Dr. Wagner declared him not responsible for his actions. Joe's not going to be charged with murder or robbery, but..."

"But he's lost his freedom anyway," Frank finished for him. "Did they say when he'll be better? How long are they going to have to keep him?"

Laura began sobbing loudly. "Joe's completely unbalanced," Fenton replied heavily. "Dr. Wagner believes Joe has dementia."

"But that's a disease for old people," Frank argued in disbelief.

"It can also happen if there has been bruising of the brain," Fenton replied. "And as many times as Joe has been knocked unconscious..." he broke off, too choked up to continue.

Frank sat back in his seat. He couldn't believe Joe was crazy. It wasn't possible. How was he going to carry on without his baby brother?


	5. Chapter Five

"Hey little brother," Frank said softly, fighting back tears as he looked down at Joe lying strapped to the bed. 

Joe cracked his eyes open briefly and shook his head. "No, no," he mumbled. "Not..." The words died as Joe faded off to sleep. Frank swallowed as the tears ran down his cheeks.

Fenton, standing behind Frank, put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Dr. Wagner said Joe's been drifting in and out of consciousness all day," he informed Frank quietly. "We have to leave," he added softly a couple of minutes later.

"We just got here," Frank argued.

"We had to come and sign Joe's admittance forms," Fenton said gently. "They had to give him a sedative to calm him down. He won't be fully conscious until sometime tomorrow."

"I want to stay with him," Frank insisted.

"So do your mother and I, but we can't," Fenton told him. "Son, Joe may be here for the rest of his life," he pointed out, his voice breaking. "You can't stay with him forever. Tomorrow, we'll come back," he promised. Frank nodded his consent to the arrangement and his dad leaned down and kissed Joe's forehead. On the other side of Joe's bed, Laura did the same, then they both went over to the door to wait while Frank told Joe goodbye.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Frank promised Joe. "We'll get you out of here somehow," he added, tears falling onto Joe's face as he leaned over to kiss him on his forehead.

"Murder," mumbled Joe, moving his head restlessly. Frank's stomach clenched and he stood up straight, afraid he would take the bindings off of his brother and get him out of there in spite of what everyone thought. He moved a lock of hair off Joe's forehead then left with his parents.

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Frank came downstairs dressed in black the next morning. Jim Cornett's funeral was in one hour and he was going with his parents.

"Do you think Mrs. Brown will mind us being at the funeral?" Frank asked his dad as they were leaving.

"Who?" Fenton asked.

"Stephanie Brown. She was Jim's sister," Frank replied.

Fenton wrinkled his brow. "Do you remember my telling you that in a mystery there's no such thing as coincidence?" he asked Frank.

"Yeah," Frank replied, looking at his father questioningly.

"Stephanie Cornett Brown was the district attorney here in Bayport twelve years ago," Fenton told him. "We've worked together several times."

"You think someone decided to get back at you both by killing her brother and framing Joe," Frank surmised. "But why now? Joe isn't able to be punished for it even if he had of killed him."

"We know Joe has been getting ill now, but when Jim was murdered no one even suspected he was sick," Fenton reminded him.

"Except Joe," Frank said quietly. "He told me he thought he was losing it, but I thought he was just tired from not getting any sleep. I should have listened," he added, berating himself.

"Don't Son," Fenton said and putting a consoling hand on Frank's shoulder. "No two brothers have ever been closer than you and Joe. He knows that."

"Did you find out anything about the robbery at Maxines?" Frank asked while they waited on the porch for Laura to finish getting ready and join them.

"Not much," Fenton admitted. "But I did learn that the jewelry you handed me wasn't all that was taken."

"Oh?" Frank asked, his eyebrow lifting up in interest.

"A man's gold ring with a ruby inset is still missing," Fenton informed him. "I'm betting that whoever has the ring is the person who tried to frame Joe."

"Any leads at all?" Frank inquired.

"I have a theory and the police are checking into it, but they haven't gotten back in touch with me," Fenton replied.

"Laura came out of the house and closed the door, locking it. "Let's go," she said, her voice raspy. She had cried all night over Joe and felt like staying home and crying some more but she knew she had to attend the funeral.

Fenton took her hand and squeezed it. She gave him a faint smile and the three walked to the car and left for the church.

As they were pulling in, Frank asked, "When are you going to talk to Mrs. Brown about the murder?"

"What?" Laura asked, turning around and looking at her eldest son in the backseat, and then back to her husband beside her.

Fenton explained to her about a possible connection between Joe's being framed and Jim's death and then answered Frank. "Tomorrow I'll call her. After we get home I'll start looking to see if anyone connected to both of us has been released recently," he added. "You can go visit Joe today and help me tomorrow."

"Joe may be sick, but no one's going to frame him especially when he can't fight back," Frank vowed, ready to take on everyone if need be.

But Joe was fighting back. At the moment he was lying on the floor in a straight jacket screaming for help and kicking out at Doctor Wagner. Two orderlies burst in and helped to subdue Joe. "Now, now, Joesph," Dr, Wagner said after Joe had been secured to the bed once again. "Is that any way to act after I allowed you to go to the bathroom?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Joe demanded.

"No one's doing anything to you," the doctor told him. "You're becoming paranoid."

"No, I'm not," Joe replied with conviction. "I thought I was going crazy because of the voices in my head, but you put them there."

"How could I have done that?" Dr. Wagner asked him. "I'm trying to help you," he insisted.

"Yeah, right," Joe sneered, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I'm not stupid. If the voices were really my imagination then they wouldn't have the same voices as your two friends over there," he retorted, referring to the two orderlies who stood by waiting for instructions from the doctor.

"Busted, huh?" Dr. Wagner asked with a lift of one eyebrow and a malicious grin. "Just as well. I've been worried someone might find the transmitter and tapes." He turned to look at the two orderlies. "Fred," he said to the brown headed man of about twenty-five years old, "go get rid of the transmitter and tapes. Jeff, help me remove the receivers from Joe's ears," he added to the small red-headed man also in his mid-twenties.

He turned back to Joe as Fred left the room. "No more voices," he promised, taking the instrument Jeff handed him. "But it doesn't really matter." Jeff held Joe's head still while the doctor inserted the instrument into Joe's ear and pulled out a small metal disk, smaller than a watch battery. He repeated the process with Joe's other ear.

He then went to a cabinet on the wall and unlocked it and removed a bottle. He picked up a syringe from the table and filled it. He then took a presoaked cotton ball from a jar and came back to where Joe lay. "With continued use, this stuff causes brain damage," he told Joe, looking down into his eyes. "You may be sane now, but within two weeks, that will change," he promised. Before Joe could scream again, Jeff clamped a hand over Joe's mouth as the doctor swabbed Joe's leg beneath the gown he was wearing and inserted the needle.

Almost at once Joe's eyes started watering and his face twisted in pain. "One of the things I love about this new drug," Dr. Wagner said, watching Joe develop a vacant look, "it's effects can be felt immediately." He threw away the syringe and locked the bottle in the cabinet, then he and Jeff left Joe alone.

As soon as Dr. Wagner was out of sight a slender red-head made her way to Joe's room. She pushed a gurney with a large bowl, shampoo, and towels. She started to open Joe's door but was halted by an authoratative voice.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Wagner demanded, his harsh green eyes boring into her as he came around the corner.

"Nurse Johnson told me to wash all the patients hair," the young voulunteer told him. "She said one of the patients had lice and they all had to be checked and the infected ones treated."

Dr. Wagner wrinkled his nose but opened the door for her to enter. "Make it quick," he ordered. "He gets violent." Dr. Wagner then went into the room ahead of her and, walking over to the desk, ripped off a sheet of paper from a notepad and left the room.

The red-head went over to Joe's bed and kissed him gently on the lips, her brown eyes bright. "Hey baby," she said softly. "It's me, Vanessa." She swallowed and sniffed before continuing. "I just want you to know you're not alone in here. I was afraid they wouldn't let me near you so I put on a disguise and got a job here." She paused and looked at his eyes. They were open and he was looking at her but she knew he wasn't really seeing her. She only hoped he could hear her. "No one believes you killed the janitor," she told him. "And Frank's going to prove it." Joe moaned and started moving his head restlessly back and forth. "Easy, baby," she said, kissing his forehead. "It will all work out all right. You'll get better and everything will be back to the way it's supposed to be."

She stood up and pushed the gurney closer and took a pair of disposable gloves and put them on. Unfortunately, she had been telling Dr. Wagner the truth about checking all the patients for lice.

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"Fenton," Stephanie Brown said as she saw him enter the church near the graveyard where the burial was to be. She walked over and Fenton gave her a brief hug. "How's Joe?" she asked. "I heard he was admitted to Corwin."

"Not good," he admitted sadly. "I'm sorry about Jim," he added.

"So am I," she said, her hazel eyes flashing in a mixture of sadness and anger. "But whoever killed him is going to be even sorrier," she vowed. Seeing the surprised expression on Fenton's face and the angry scowls of Laura and Frank, she continued, "I know Joe didn't kill him. As soon as I found out it was your son who had been arrested for the murder I knew it had to be an old enemy of ours."

"Yeah," Fenton agreed. "I had already came to that conclusion."

"I know tomorrow is Sunday, but knowing you it won't matter. Stop over and we can go through my files. We are bound to find someone who had the chance to kill Jim and frame Joe." She looked over and saw her husband looking at her anxiously. "I'd better go," she said. "Thanks for coming. I know how hard it is for you right now," she added before going to join her husband.

After the funeral, Laura went to clean Joe's room. "He'll get better," she said. "And he'll need a clean room to come home to," she added, her voice breaking as she left.

Fenton watched her climb the steps with sadness. He turned to Frank. "I'm going to look through my files and make some calls. Maybe I can turn up something now."

"I'm going to stay with Joe as long as they will let me," Frank told his dad as he left.

At Corwin, Frank asked to see Joe. He waited twenty minutes before the door opened and Dr. Wagner came out. "Can I see Joe now?" Frank asked, jumping to his feet.

"Yes," Dr. Wagner said. "But I must warn you, he's not doing well."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked in alarm.

"He's not responding to anyone," Dr. Wagner told him. "You'll see what I mean," he added, leading Frank to Joe's room. Dr. Wagner let Frank inside then left them alone.

"Hey Baby Brother," Frank said, walking over to Joe and smiling when he saw Joe's open eyes. But then he noticed the glassy look and realized Joe had no clue he was there. Frank sat down in the chair beside the bed and started crying.

He stopped and jerked to a standing position when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around and saw a red-haired girl with brown eyes. The face looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place her. She held her finger to her lips and handed Frank a piece of paper. It had pencil marks running back and forth across it to show an indention made from a previous page. On the sheet were scribbled the words: Maisieno 10cc's 2x daily brain damage extended use death. Then the red head took Frank's hand and pointed to a bottle in the locked cabinet. The bottle was about a fourth empty and was labeled Maisieno!


	6. Chapter Six

"We've got to get him out of here before they kill him," the red head said, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "Vanessa?" Frank asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. 

She nodded. "I didn't want Joe to be alone," she explained. "So I put on a disguise and got a job here." She paused and sniffed. "When I got here earlier, I heard Joe screaming for help. After two orderlies and Dr. Wagner left, I came in and Joe was like that," she added, looking over at him.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I thought you didn't care."

"Of course I care," Vanessa said angrily. "But I wanted to stay with Joe while you found the real killer. He shouldn't have to be alone."

Frank swallowed. "Thank you," he said barely a decibel above a whisper. He looked over at his brother. "We're going to need help to get him out of here," he told Vanessa.

"I'm not leaving until Joe does," she said stubbornly.

"Good," Frank said, smiling at her. "Make sure they don't get any more Maisieno to give him," he ordered.

"Get any more?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah," Frank said, grinning as he removed his lock-pick kit from his pocket. He walked over to the cabinet and picked the lock. He removed the bottle from the cabinet, moving the other bottles around to make it look like nothing had been taken. He then relocked the cabinet.

"I'm going to give this to Dad," he informed Vanessa. "He'll run it through the proper channels. In the meantime, I'll call the gang together and we'll get Joe out of here." He walked over to where Joe lay. "Don't worry baby bro," he said, leaning over and kissing Joe's forehead. "We're getting you out of here." He turned back to Vanessa. "Be careful," he warned Vanessa. "I'll be back soon," he promised, leaving.

When Frank arrived home, he ran upstairs to his father's study. He set the bottle of Maisieno on the desk and handed his dad the sheet of paper Vanessa had given him.

Fenton read the slip of paper and picked up the bottle. He disconnected from the internet where he had been accessing prison files and stood up. "I'll go to headquarters and start arrangements to have Joe transferred," he said.

"Don't you mean released?" Frank demanded.

"Son, Joe..." Fenton started but Frank interrupted him.

"Dr. Wagner's trying to kill him!" Frank shouted angrily at his father.

"But Joe is still under suspicion of murder," Fenton reminded him. "We know he didn't do it, but not only was Joe's necklace found near the body, but he also confessed. Whether we want to admit it or not, Joe has a mental problem and denying it isn't going to help him get better."

Frank looked at his father, swallowed the hurtful words he wanted to say, turned and left. It didn't matter what his dad said. He wasn't going to leave Joe where he could be vulnerable again.

Frank got in the car and drove to Biff's. Once there he called Chet, Tony, Callie and Phil Cohen, another friend of theirs who could do anything with electronics. After everyone had arrived, Frank explained the situation.

"How are we going to get him out?" Chet asked.

"And where is he going to stay after we do?" Callie asked. "Frank, until you find out who really killed Cornett and robbed Maxines, they'll be looking for Joe," she told him, trying to make him see how right his dad was to get Joe transferred.

"But I need Joe to help solve the mystery," Frank started to explain only to be interuppted by Biff.

"Frank, Joe can't even help himself," Biff said gently.

"You don't get it," Frank said, a bit impatiently. "The doctor is the one trying to kill Joe!"

"We got that," Biff said. "But Joe still isn't all there."

"The Maisieno caused Joe's glazed expression and as for the violent behavior, he probably figured out what Wagner was up to," Frank explained. On the way over, Frank had contacted Sam Radley, a friend and associate of his father's. Sam had looked up the drug online and discovered it was used a sedative but the side-effects included schizophrenia, glazed eyes and drooling. Continued use would lead to brain damage and eventually death. The drug was released to be used exclusively on the severe mental ill and then only one time and only as a last resort.

"But Joe said he was hearing voices," Tony said. "That was before Wagner ever got a hold of Joe," he reminded Frank.

"Look, I don't know if Joe's really sick or not. Right now, I'm not concerned with that. What I am concerned about is Joe living to face a trial if that's what it comes down to. Someone set him up. And whoever arranged for Joe to be put in Dr. Wagner's care in the first place could put him in danger again."

"So how do we break him out?" Tony asked.

"Don't they guard that place like a prison?" Chet asked.

"The only guards are the orderlies and according to Vanessa, at least two of them are involved in this mess," Frank replied. "They do have a security system," he continued. "That's where you come in Phil," he said to the five foot eight slender boy with glasses and brown hair and brown eyes.

"What kind of system do they have?" Phil inquired.

Frank gave a huge grin as he replied, "A Cohen 2000."

"Yo, man! One of your dads," Chet shouted at Phil, whose father owned and operated his own security firm in Bayport.

"Callie, we need you to go in as a volunteer the way Vanessa did. A disguise would be a good idea," he added. She gave a brief nod. "Chet, we'll need you to wait outside in the van so we can make a quick get-a-way."

"I thought Joe busted your van," Chet said.

"He did," Frank admitted. "We'll have to use Biff's. Tony, you can help Phil. And Biff, we need your muscle inside."

"You got it," Biff agreed.

"When do we start?" Callie asked.

"Now," Frank said. "Dye your hair and drive your mom's car," he suggested as she was leaving. "Vanessa had the right idea. Whoever is doing this probably knows what all our friends look like."

"I've got some walkie talkies at the office we can use," Phil told Frank. "They're on a special frequency so no one can eavesdrop."

"Great!" Frank said. "We'll swing by and get one on the way to Corwin."

Phil and Tony left for Cohen Security. Phil had to have time to access the security link to Corwin without catching anyone's attention. After they had left, Chet suggested he meet them at Tamin's Bagelry and departed. Frank looked at Biff. "We'll have to give you a make-over," he said. "Only family members can see Joe and someone may recognize you." Biff nodded and they went upstairs.

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"Why not?" Fenton thundered at Chief Collig. "Wagner's trying to kill Joe. Here's the evidence," he added, waving his hand at the bottle which now set on Chief Collig's desk.

"I already told you," Chief Collig replied calmly. "There's no proof that Joe was given the Maisieno."

"Get a blood sample," Fenton ordered forcefully. He knew Chief Collig was right, his years on the New York City Police Department had taught him that. But right now he didn't feel like an ex-cop. Right now he felt like a scared parent.

"We can't until morning," Chief Collig told him. "After three o'clock, the patients are confined to their rooms. The doctors only see them after that time if it's an emergency," he added, trying to calm Fenton. "Joe will be fine until tomorrow and we'll be there at dawn waiting when they are completely staffed and the bloodwork can be done."

"This is an emergency," Fenton argued.

"But Wagner won't be near Joe until tomorrow," Chief Collig repeated himself, more to the point this time.

"Who are you trying to protect?" Fenton demanded. "This is my son's life we're talking about. I never thought you'd go bad," he added in disgust.

"I know it's Joe's life we're talking about," Chief Collig shouted, standing up and placing both hands on his desk. "Do you honestly think I don't care about Joe?" he demanded. "This has to be done by procedure. Judge Parkinson isn't available until tomorrow morning and without his consent Joe can't be transferred or have a blood sample taken even if there was someone at the institute who could do it. If we move now, whoever is trying to hurt Joe is going to get away," he added, more softly. "If I thought Joe was in imminent danger, then I would go in tonight and get him out of there. But he's not," he ended, sending Fenton a look begging him to understand. Fenton glared at Chief Collig then left his office, slamming the door on his way out.

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Joe blinked and moved his head. "Joe," Vanessa said, rushing over to his side. Joe blinked at her and his breathing became heavier. He tried to speak but the words would not form. "Shh," she said. "Frank's going to get you out of here. He.." she broke off as she heard the knob turn on the door. She hurried back to her hiding place.

"Hello Joseph," Dr. Wagner said, coming into the room followed by Jeff and Fred. "Starting to feel normal again?" he asked in mock sympathy.

Joe just blinked at him, trying to focus. "Now, now, we can't have that." He went to retrieve the Maisieno. He unlocked the cabinet and searched for the bottle with a frown on his face. Not finding it, he relocked the cabinet and turned to look at Joe, his face hard and eyes cold.

"I'm no fool," he said. "If it's gone then someone, your father perhaps, is suspicious. Time for us to leave." He turned to Jeff and Fred. "Go get a gurney," he ordered.

Vanessa had heard everything from her hiding place. If they took Joe then she knew she would never see him again. She had to do something. She waited until the orderlies had left then crept from her hiding place. Standing upright, she surprised Wagner from behind. He turned just in time to feel a sharp blow to his head as Vanessa brought the display of a brain crashing down on him. He fell to the floor dazed.

Vanessa quickly released Joe and helped him to stand. He wobbled and she quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and put his arm around her shoulders. "Joe, please try to walk," she begged.

Joe tried to do as she asked but his balance was off and his entire weight fell onto Vanessa. She sagged to the floor as Joe fell on top of her. She pushed Joe off and started to her feet only to have her ankle caught in a vise-like grip. She looked down. Wagner was looking up at her with an evil grin. He pulled her ankle hard and Vanessa fell backward, her head slamming into the hard floor. She lay there unconscious.


	7. Chapter Seven

When Frank and Biff left the Hoopers, it was starting to get dark. Biff now had brown hair and a mustache. He wore faded blue jeans and an old tee shirt beneath a large navy sweater. "Remember," Frank reminded Biff, "your name is Tad Hardy. Your dad was my dad's big brother, Craig." 

"I didn't know you had an Uncle Craig," Biff commented, climbing behind the wheel of his van.

"He died about eleven years ago," Frank informed him from the passenger's side.

"How?" Biff asked curiously.

"He had leukemia," Frank responded.

Biff started the motor and they drove over to the Cohen Security Agency. Frank ran inside to pick up the walkie talkies.

"I think we've got it figured out how you can get Joe out of there," Phil said. He pulled up a screen showing the schematics for the front of Corwin. "This place has really been set up to keep the patients from leaving. Basically, anyone can get inside."

Phil pointed to a set of lines on the side of the screen. "There is an emergency exit," he said. "From the inside it will set off a siren when opened. If it's opened from the outside, however, nothing."

"That's where you've got to get Joe out," Tony stated. "The only problem is the exit is located directly across from the nurse's station."

"With Callie and Vanessa there, that shouldn't be a problem," Frank said.

"We're coming with you," Tony said, standing up. "We've done all we can here."

The three left the building and climbed into the van. Biff drove to Tamin's Bagelry and pulled to a stop beside Chet's jalopy, affectionately known as the Queen. Inside, the four boys found Chet devouring his second helping of fragel.

"We should have known why you wanted to meet here," Tony said, sitting down in the booth beside Chet.

Phil sat down opposite Chet and Tony. Frank and Biff remained standing. "After we get Joe we'll contact you on the walkie," Frank said to Phil.

"We'll be ready to open the door," Phil promised.

"And I'll have Biff's van ready and waiting," Chet stated, finishing his dessert. He rapped Tony on the shoulder. "Move it."

"Not yet," Frank said. "I want to check in with Dad. He was going to try and get Joe transferred but I doubt he's managed to do it yet," he explained. "Also, I need to call Mrs. Shaw and see what time Callie left. She has to have time to be accepted as a volunteer."

Frank was back in ten minutes, his face wrinkled with worry. "They can't do anything to help Joe until tomorrow," he informed the group. "We may be Joe's only chance."

"Easy, pal," Biff said, standing up. "We're getting Joe out of there now," he vowed. Tony, Chet, and Phil piled out of the booth and the foursome went to the van.

"Callie left a little over two hours ago," Frank said on the way to Corwin. "She should have met up with Vanessa by now." He looked at all his friends. "Everyone know what they're supposed to do?" he asked.

All heads nodded to the affirmative. "Joe can stay at our place," Chet offered, thinking the cops would go straight to the Hardy's place.

"Thanks Chet," Frank replied with a faint smile and a shake of his head. "They're bound to look for him at all our friend's houses until they find him."

"Where are you taking him then?" Phil asked, concerned about Frank as much as about Joe.

Frank shook his head again. "I'd rather not say," he said. "You would have to tell if you knew. This way, I'll be the only one to get into trouble."

"Do you think you can handle him?" Tony asked. Frank frowned. "You said he had dementia," he reminded Frank. "Joe could get really erratic."

"I don't think he does," Frank stated. He held up a hand as Tony started to interrupt. "Who diagnosed him?" he demanded.

"Dr. Wagner," Chet said, his eyes wide. "But he's the one trying to kill Joe."

"Exactly," Frank replied.

"But what about the voices Joe said he had heard?" Biff demanded. "And his behaviour lately?"

"I don't know," Frank admitted with a certain amount of sorrow. "But this wouldn't be the first time someone has messed with his head," he added, thinking back to a case they had solved last Halloween where a clone of Iola had appeared.

"We're here," Biff said, slowing down and turning into the parking area. Phil directed Biff on where to park, then Chet took the wheel and Frank and Biff climbed out of the van.

Walking inside, Frank heard a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone. "What do you mean I can't see my son?" Laura Hardy demanded angrily, glaring at the nurse. Frank grabbed Biff's arm and pulled him down the hall while the staff were preoccupied.

Arriving at the door to Joe's room they found it locked. The chart on the front said Joe had become dangerously violent and had to be placed in full restraints. No visitors were allowed. Frank pulled out the lock pick kit his father had given to him for Christmas one year and knelt down by the lock. Seconds later, the door opened.

Walking inside, Frank's heart leapt to his throat. His brother still wore a straight jacket and was strapped down but now his face had been placed in a muzzle. Beneath the muzzle were bandages which even covered his eyes. "What have they done to him?" Frank whispered fearfully.

Frank and Biff raced over to the bed. Biff set about freeing Joe from the straps while Frank removed the muzzle. As they were working, Callie slipped into the room.

"I can't find Vanessa anywhere," she replied, closing the door behind her and coming over. "Oh," she said, her eyes growing wide in horror as she saw the muzzle Frank slipped off Joe's head. He then started removing the bandages. When he had finished, all three stared at the unconscious person on the bed. They had found Vanessa.


	8. Chapter Eight

"Is she..." Callie whispered, unable to finish her sentence. 

"I think she's been drugged," Frank replied, checking the pulse in her neck. He turned around and headed for the door. "Get her out of the straight jacket," he told Biff. "I'll go and get someone to look at her." He left the room and headed for the nurses' station where his mother was still arguing with the head nurse.

Frank put a hand on his mother's shoulder as he came up beside her. She turned, saw Frank, and quietened down. "Is there a doctor on call?" Frank asked.

"Dr. Freemont is here," the nurse informed him, grateful to him for calming down the irate woman.

"Tell him one of your voulenteers is unconscious in room 119," he said, causing his mother to look at him in alarm. He turned to another nurse who was standing behind the first. "Call the police," he ordered her. "My brother is missing."

Frank and his mother walked back to room 119. Dr. Freemont and the nurse arrived from the opposite direction at the same time. "When did Dr. Wagner leave?" Frank asked.

The nurse, whose name was Sarah Miller, looked over at Frank. "About two hours ago," she responded. "You surely don't think he had anything to do with this?"

"That's exactly what I do think," Frank replied as Biff slipped out of the room to go let the others know what was going on.

Almost two hours later, Frank and his mother left the institution. Vanessa had been drugged but she had awakened and Callie had taken her home. Their other friends had all gone home after the police had arrived and taken a statement from Biff. Frank had promised to keep everyone informed.

"What's going on?" Laura asked Frank once they were in the car and on their way home.

"Joe's being framed," Frank began.

"I know that!" Laura snapped. "I want to know who, why, and how."

"We don't know who," Frank replied. "Dr. Wagner was giving Joe this medicine called Maisieno which made him look like he wasn't aware of anything. But he has to be working for someone else. They set Joe up for the murder of Cornett," he continued. "Whoever is behind this has a grudge against dad and Cornett's sister, the former DA, Stephanie Brown."

He hit the steering wheel in frustration. "I don't know why Joe's been acting the way he has but he's not crazy," Frank insisted. "Wagner was lying."

"Maybe if you can figure out how they got Joe to act that way then you could clear him," Laura suggested, resting a hand on Frank's arm.

"Mom, when I went on the senior class field trip a couple of weeks ago, what did Joe do?" Frank asked, an idea coming to him.

"Poor Joe," his mother said, smiling fondly at the memory. "He was bored to tears. He finally went on a hiking trip with Jerry Gilroy and Brad Andrews. He must have been missing you a lot because Jerry said Joe had gotten lost. When they found him, he was asleep under a tree a couple of miles ahead on the trail by the creek."

"Did they have any trouble waking him up?" Frank asked, frowning.

"Jerry didn't say," Laura replied. "Why? Do you think it has some bearing on this case?"

"It might have," Frank agreed, pulling into the Hardy drive. "I'm not coming in," he told her as she opened her door. "I'm going to talk to Jerry and then swing by Wagner's place. The police may miss something."

"What about those two thugs who were helping him?" Laura asked.

"Jeff Barnes and Fred Blevins," Frank said with a shake of his head. "I don't think they were anything more than hired muscle," he stated. "But if I come up empty, I'll go to their houses too."

"You shouldn't go alone," Laura said with a frown.

"It's okay," Frank assured her with a smile. "The police will have all ready been by the time I get there and I'm sure they will be watching in case he comes back."

Laura gave a faint smile and got out of the car. "Be careful," she begged.

"I will," he promised, then watched her go inside before leaving.

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Meanwhile, Joe was coming out of his drugged stupor. He opened his eyes and gazed at his surroundings. It took several minutes for him to fully realize he was no longer at the institution. He tried to move his arms but to no avail. He looked down and saw he was still in a straight jacket, only instead of being strapped to a hospital bed, he was now tied to a chair, each leg tied individually. Around his chest he saw four coils of rope. He knew he wasn't going anywhere.

The room in which he was now a prisoner was run-down. There were brown spots on the ceiling where it had leaked. He looked up with a grimace. 'It would figure they would put me beneath the largest one,' he thought. He occupied the only chair in the room. The only other furniture in sight was an old, rickety table which had obviously seen better days. The fireplace had bricks missing. He supposed the crumbling debris on the floor may have been part of the fireplace at one time.

He didn't know where he was, but he did know if this place were anywhere near civilization, it would have been torn down a long time ago.

Still, he had to try. He took a deep breath, "Heeeeeellllllppppp!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. The only sound he heard was the scampering of a rodent, probably a squirrel by the sound of it, running across the roof. Joe hung his head in defeat, wondering how long it would take his brother to find him.

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Frank arrived at the Gilroy house shortly after nine. He parked the car and made a bee line for the front door. He rapped five times and was going to knock more when the door was opened and a wiry seventeen year old with brown hair, green eyes and dark skin opened the door. "I need to talk to you," Frank said.

Jerry Gilroy, an inch taller than Frank, grinned and pulled the door all the way open. "Come on in," he offered. "How's Joe doing?" he asked as he and Frank went up the stairs to Jerry's room.

"I don't know," Frank admitted. "He was kidnaped earlier today."

"What?" Jerry exclaimed, his green eyes widening in shock.

Frank brought Jerry up to date on his investigation. "And that brings me to why I needed to see you," Frank concluded.

"Why?" Jerry asked, ready to help in any way possible.

"Mom said Joe got lost when he went with you and Brad hiking. Tell me what happened from right before he got lost," Frank requested.

Jerry frowned as he thought about it. "I can't," he said after a couple of minutes.

"Why not?" Frank demanded.

"Well, we had been hiking for about an hour on Trail 9 of Pilfer's Mountain," Jerry explained. "Joe was in front, I was behind him and Brad was bringing up the rear. We were climbing and talking about this year's football team when Joe must have walked into a bees' nest. Next thing, we were all running for the creek with hundreds of bees after us. We all got stung a few times but we were okay. We got out of the water and..." he broke off, concentrating.

"And?" Frank prompted.

"And that's it," Jerry said, shaking his head. "Next thing I remember, I woke up back down the trail. Brad was asleep so I woke him up. We started looking for Joe and found him a little farther up the trail, asleep," he paused and looked at Frank's thoughtful face. "I'd tell you to talk to Brad but his grandmother died and they went to Arizona for the funeral."

"Can you take me to where the bee nest was?" Frank asked. He knew there was no way all three boys would have passed out from a few bee stings. They had to have been drugged.

"Sure," Jerry said. "But..uh..not tonight," he added, looking out the window at the night sky. "We couldn't see anything."

"I'll be here at sun-up," Frank told him and stood up. "Thanks, Jer," he added.

"Any time," Jerry assured Frank, walking him back downstairs and to the door.

Frank got in the car and drove to Wagner's home address. He parked down the street and kept to the shadows as he made his way to the back of the house. He peered inside the window and saw no movement so he made his way to the back door and pulled out his lock pick kit. He quickly opened the door and stepped inside. Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness within, he was grabbed and pushed against the wall, a gun pushed into his ribs.


	9. Chapter Nine

"You're under arrest," he heard a voice growl in his ear as the lights were turned on. 

Frank blinked at the sudden brightness. As his vision returned, he was released. He turned around and saw two officers replacing their guns in their holsters.

"What are you doing here?" Sergeant Con Riley demanded of Frank although he had known the Hardys long enough to know the answer.

"I was going to look for a lead," Frank replied, frowning. "Why are you guys in here? I thought you'd be outside."

Con frowned. "After Joe disappeared we checked out Dr. Wagner," he told Frank. "He died a month ago in a plane crash."

"Then who.." Frank began in alarm only to be cut off by Con.

"We don't know," Con replied. "Wagner was slated to start work at Corwin three weeks ago. When this Wagner showed up with the real Wagner's credentials, no one questioned him."

"Was the plane crash an accident?" Frank asked.

Con shook his head. "Not a chance," he replied. "Pieces of the bomb used to blow it up were found."

"Call Dad and let him know," Frank ordered. "He's trying to find a common enemy of his and Mrs. Brown's who might be around town. This will give them some kind of time frame. Do you mind if I look around?" he asked.

"Go for it," Con replied, picking up the receiver. "Meadows," he said to the other officer, "check the outside grounds again."

"You don't think he's coming back?" Frank asked as Meadows went outside.

Con shook his head. "You'll see why," he said. Frank walked into the dining room. The room was nicely furnished, nothing out of place. He walked into the living room. Again, everthing was neat and orderly. A lone copy of yesterday's Bayport Times lay on the coffee table beside the television remote. Frank walked to the desk in the corner of the room and pulled open the drawer, checking beneath it in case something had been taped there. Nothing was beneath the empty drawer. He then went into the bedrooms, searching the wastecans, closets, and bureaus. Except for a few bare hangars, there was nothing to show anyone had lived there.

Frank shook his head in disgust and returned to the kitchen. "This place is owned by Stacey Myers," Con told Frank. "She rented it out to our fake doctor a little over three weeks ago. He paid first and last month's rent. She said he had credentials from a Martha Whitman in Bainbridge, Alaska, which is where the real Dr. Wagner had lived," he added.

"What about Barnes and Blevins?" Frank inquired.

"We found Barnes body about an hour ago," Con said. "Shot twice. There were no witnesses."

"Blevins?"

"We've got an APB out on him," Con informed Frank. "His address was a no-go. The street didn't even exist."

"What about Joe?" Frank finally asked. "Is he still under suspicion for killing Cornette?"

Con nodded. "Honestly, no one believes he's guilty, especially not after everything that's happened, but he did confess."

"He didn't know what he was doing," Frank defended his little brother.

"Easy, I'm on your side, remember?" Con demanded. "The only sure way to clear Joe is to find Cornette's real killer."

"And find whoever robbed Maxines," Frank added.

Con looked at Frank in surprise. "Joe's already been cleared," he told Frank. "Your dad did that today."

Frank drove home and headed for his dad's office. "How did you clear Joe?" he asked his dad from the doorway.

"It wasn't hard," Fenton admitted, waving Frank to a chair. "Joe had the expertise to pull it off but not the equipment or build."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, leaning forward.

"The break-in was done by a professional," Fenton stated. "The store was entered through a sky light. It was cut, not broken. A small square allowed someone, smaller than your brother, to use a rope and lower themself inside the store and take the watches and jewelry from two cases which were side by side. The alarm was in the floor. Had anything heavier than a feather touched the floor, the alarm would have sounded.

"That's good," Frank said. "But I still want to nail whoever has done this to Joe. Have you come up with anything about Cornett?"

"Paul McCormick was released on parole five weeks ago," Fenton informed Frank. "After he was sent to prison his father went crazy. Two years later, still in a mental institution, he hung himself."

"He's not just trying to convince everyone Joe's a murderer. He's not even set on driving Joe crazy. He's going to kill Joe, if he hasn't already," Frank said dully.


	10. Chapter Ten

Frank awoke early the next morning. He was on his way out the door when the phone rang. 

"We found Blevins," Chief Collig's voice blared into Frank's ear. "He had the piece still missing from Maxine's on him," he added.

"Where are you?" Frank asked.

"Barment Bay," Chief Collig replied. "Under Pier 4."

"We're on our way," Frank promised and hung up. He ran upstairs to tell his father who was getting dressed, then he called Jerry and asked if they could go later.

"My cousin's getting married this afternoon," Jerry told him. "We can go tomorrow after school," he suggested.

Frank bit his lip at the delay but agreed and made plans to meet after school. Fenton came running downstairs and the two of them left.

"Weren't you supposed to see Mrs. Brown this morning?" Frank asked his father.

"I called her last night," Fenton informed him. "She's going to get in touch with McCormick's parole officer and get back to me at lunch."

Fenton parked at the docks and he and Frank walked down to the base of Pier 4. Blevins' body was lying face up in the sand.

"Whoever killed him didn't even bother to try and get rid of the body," Chief Collig said, walking over to the Hardys. "High tide won't even reach this far up the shore."

"Then why bring him here in the first place?" Frank asked, stooping down to look at the body.

On the left hand was a gold ring with a ruby inset. The missing piece taken from Maxines which had not been in Joe's drawer. There was no blood in sight but around his neck was an imprint of what might have been fishing line. He still wore the light blue pants and shirt associated with his job as orderly at the Corwin Institute.

"The coroner estimates he has been dead for at least twelve hours," Chief Collig told them. And his body wasn't brought here," he added in response to Frank's question. "He died here." Fenton looked at Collig questioningly.

"We have two witnesses," Chief Collig stated. "Blevins and two other men, one matching the description of the imposter Dr. Wagner, were seen coming in this direction yesterday afternoon," he continued.

"What did the other man look like?" Fenton asked.

"White, five foot eleven, one hundred and eighty pounds with short straight black hair," Collig read froim his notepad. He looked up. "Sound familiar?" he asked Fenton, noticing his mouth had tightened and his eyes hardened.

"Yes," Fenton said. "I really had hoped we were wrong, but it's Paul McCormick," he said, then brought Collig up to date on the Hardys' investigation.

Chief Collig put a hand on Fenton's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. He also recognized the name.

Frank stood up and looked at his dad suspiciously. "What haven't you told me?" he asked.

Fenton's eyes fell from Frank's and he looked at the ground. "What?" Frank demanded angrily, coming over and gripping his father's arm so tight, he winced with pain.

Chief Collig cleared his throat. "We'll wrap up here," he said. "We've already got an APB on Wagner. We'll run a search on McCormick and see if we can turn up a recent address," he added, moving away.

"Well?" Frank demanded again after Chief Collig had left them.

Fenton took a deep breath and looked back up at Frank's face. His own face softened as he stared into Frank's taut one. "McCormick was a serial killer," he said. "He tortured his victims before he killed them."

"How?" Frank asked, his brown eyes full of fear and a sense of hopelessness.

"He would get them weak with hunger, make them sick, usually by getting them wet and leaving them out in the cold, and then he would start beating them," he paused and swallowed before continuing. "When the bodies were found, there were also cigarette burns all over them."

Frank let go of his father's arm and turned around. He walked back to the car silently, tears streaming down his cheeks. Only when he got into the car did he realize his father had followed.

"We can't give up hope," Fenton told Frank.

"Never," Frank whispered, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. "Mom..." he started.

"Can't know," Fenton hastily ended Frank's sentence. "She's always worrying about you two," he added. "I don't know if she could handle it," he explained. Frank nodded. He wasn't sure he could handle it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

"Good morning Joesph." Joe was awakened by a cheerful voice. He opened his eyes and saw Dr. Wagner and another man standing in front of him. "Enjoying your weekend?" the stranger asked.

Joe's eyes shot darts of hatred at the two men but he never spoke.

Dr. Wagner opened a bag he was holding and pulled out a bottle of water. He opened it and brought it to Joe's lips. Joe drank until the bottle was empty.

The stranger smiled. "We can't have you getting dehydrated can we?" he asked with a laugh. "You would miss all the fun."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Joe asked, realizing this man was the one in charge.

"Because your father killed mine," he snarled, getting right in Joe's face. He stared into Joe's blue eyes and laughed. "This didn't quite work out the way I had planned," he said, backing up. "Tony, here," he said, pointing to the man Joe had believed to be Dr. Wagner, "is my brother. I killed the real Dr. Wagner so Tony could take his place. Then I had a friend of mine at the courthouse arrange it so Tony would be in charge of your evaluation. You were supposed to go crazy," he added, his face hardening. "Like my father. Then, after a week or so, you were going to hang yourself."

"But your girlfriend decided to play detective and ruined it," Tony snarled.

"If you hurt her..." Joe started angrily but shut up abruptly as he was backhanded across the face. A trickle of blood seeped from his lip as he looked back at Tony's brother.

"You will only speak when you are spoken to," he said in a deceptively quite voice, his brown eyes filled with hatred as he stared down at Joe. "And when you do, you will address me and my brother as Mr. McCormick. Is that clear?"

"Drop dead," Joe told him calmly, waiting for the next slap he knew would follow.

McCormick raised his had but then a gleam came into his eyes and he put his hand down. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked Joe, smiling. Joe glared at him but refused to speak. Tony and his brother, who, Joe found out was named Paul when Tony addressed him, ate breakfast on the floor in front of him. Joe's stomach growled, betraying his hunger and making Tony and Paul laugh. Joe kept his mouth shut because he knew it would be futile to ask for anything to eat.

After his captors had finished eating, Tony went outside. Paul untied Joe from the chair and pulled him up. Half carrying him, he took Joe outside and down a path to a stream where Tony stood in swim trunks. Paul pushed Joe into the water where he landed beside Tony. Tony grabbed Joe and pushed him under the water, holding him there for a few seconds. When Joe came up he gasped for air. He barely had time to hold his breath before Tony pushed him under once again. A minute later, he pulled Joe back up.

"That should be good enough," Paul told his brother. Tony hauled Joe out of the water and pushed him onto the rocks, then climbed out and took a towel from beside his clothes to dry off with. Paul pulled Joe to his feet and took him back to the cabin. He retied Joe to the chair, still soaking wet. Shivering, Joe looked down at Paul as he finished tying him up. "What was the purpose of that?" he asked.

Paul stood up and backhanded Joe. "You only speak when you're allowed to," he reminded Joe in a cheery voice. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some masking tape. "You don't really need this," he said, "but it's a chilly day. Who knows?" he added, pulling off a strap wide enough for Joe's mouth. "You might catch a cold. We can't have you coughing and disturbing the wildlife around here," he ended, laughing as he put the tape firmly over Joe's mouth.

"One more thing," he said, pulling out his knife and flicking the blade open. "We need to send daddy a present." He stooped down and took a hold of Joe's bare foot. Joe winced. His forced trip to the stream had caused him a few abrasions as he had stepped on twigs and rocks at a fast pace. Paul grinned up at Joe then brought the knife close to Joe's big toe.

"This might hurt a bit," he said, bringing it slowly closer. Joe's toe started bleeding as the knife began piercing his skin.


	11. Chapter Eleven

When Frank and Fenton arrived home they went upstairs to Fenton's office. Fenton went to one of the file cabinets and unlocked it. He removed a file and handed it to Frank. "This is what I have on McCormick," he said as Frank opened the file.

The phone rang and Fenton answered it. Frank took the file to his room to go through. He was interrupted some time later by his father. "Stephanie just called," he told Frank. "I'm going to check out the address his parole officer had."

"I'm coming too," Frank said, standing up.

"No," Fenton stated. "Stay here. This is most likely a dead end. I put a call through to George Anderson in Charlotte, North Carolina" he added. "Paul had a brother, Tony, who lived there. George is going to fax us his address and a picture."

"You think he's involved?" Frank asked.

"Something's been nagging me," Fenton admitted. "Blevins and Barnes were just hired thugs but Wagner seemed to have a personal stake in this."

"You think the imposter doctor is Tony McCormick," Frank deduced.

Fenton nodded. "He has a degree in psychology from Duke University," Fenton replied. "I remember it being mentioned when I was informed of Paul's father's suicide."

Fenton left and Frank sat back down to finish reading the file. Almost an hour later he put the file down and walked downstairs. His mother met him at the foot of the stairs. "I've got soup and sandwiches ready," she said.

"Thanks," he said with a faint smile. "But I'm not hungry."

"Tough," she told him. "You skipped breakfast but you're not skipping lunch." Frank started to argue but she put a hand over his mouth. "How much help are you going to be to your brother if you faint from hunger?" she demanded.

Frank took her had and kissed it. "You're right, as usual," he said, going with her into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. After lunch, Frank helped his mother with the dishes. They were just finishing up when the phone rang.

"Hello," Frank said into the receiver, snagging it before the second ring.

"Tell Fenton he has a present on the front porch," an unfamiliar voice said before disconnecting.

Frank hung up the phone, told his mom to stay inside and went to the front door. He looked out the window. Seeing no one, he looked down. Lying on the porch was a manila envelope. Frank opened the door and gently picked up the envelope. Bringing it inside, he carefully opened it and looked inside. The blood drained from his face and he closed his eyes.

"Frank," he heard his mother say as she came over and placed a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, closing the envelope so she couldn't see. Laura yanked the envelope from Frank's hands, her eyes defying him to try and stop her, she opened the envelope and looked inside. Tears sprang to her eyes and she fell to her knees sobbing.

Frank knelt down and pulled her into his arms. "It may not be Joe's," he told her soothingly.

"It is," she said, still crying. Frank held her a moment more then helped her to the sofa. He picked up the phone and called Vanessa. He thought it would be better to have someone who loved Joe stay with her which is why he chose her over Callie.

"Vanessa, can you come over?" he asked when she had answered the phone. "I need you to stay with mom."

"Of course," she readily agreed. "What's happened? Have you found Joe?"

"I'll tell you when you get here," he promised and hung up. He then called Chief Collig at the police station and told him about the "present" and phone call. "I'll bring it in when Vanessa gets here," he concluded his call.

Vanessa arrived and Frank brought her up to date. He then told her about the envelope. "What was in it?" she asked.

"A knife, covered in blood," he answered.

"Oh no," she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks.

Frank put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Mom's real upset," he said. "I'm going to run this to the station and wait and see if it's Joe's. Then I'll be back. Can you stay with her that long?" he asked.

"Of course," Vanessa said, sniffing. "I'll do anything I can to help," she told him.

"Don't worry," Frank said, trying to reassure her. "We'll find Joe and in a week's time we'll all be arguing over what movie we're going to go see."

Vanessa smiled faintly at him and nodded. She left Frank and went into the living room to stay with Laura.

Frank arrived at the police department and headed for forensics. He and Joe had been here many times and the officers were so used to them they even kept Frank's and Joe's blood samples in a special file. He left the envelope with Officer Tyson and went upstairs to see Chief Collig. While Frank waited for the results he discussed the case with Collig.

"What I don't understand is how Wagner managed to be in charge of Joe's evaluation," Frank said. "He hadn't been working at Corwin long enough."

"That's a very good question," Chief Collig said, frowning in thought. "I'll check it out," he promised as his phone rang. "That was forensics," he told Frank when he had hung up. "It was Joe's blood," he confirmed. "And Paul McCormick's fingerprints were on the handle," he added.

Frank drove home. Coming into the house he was met at the door by his mother. Her eyes were flashing angrily. Before he could ask what was wrong she directed her anger at him. "Why didn't you tell me?" she practically screamed at him.

Frank saw a paper in her hand. It was the fax of Paul McCormick's brother, Tony. It was also the doctor who had been in charge of Joe. "We didn't know until this morning," he told her honestly.

Laura started crying again, the fight gone out of her. "Why?" she asked. "Why is this happening?"

Frank put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Joe's okay," he said, not believing it.

"No, he's not!" Laura stormed at him, pulling out of his comforting embrace. "McCormick is a madman," she said. "You don't know how your father had nightmares after finding his victims," she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Dad told me about the beatings and the burns," Frank said, swallowing hard as he thought about his brother. Vanessa stood in the entryway to the living room, tears streaming down her cheeks, listening to the possible fate of the man she one day hoped to marry.

"Did he tell you about the mutilations?" she demanded.

"What?" he sshouted in shock, his face draining of color and his breathing becoming heavier.

"After his victims had been missing for a few days, he started sending their fingers to the parents. One a day and always with the last finger there was a note where the body could be found."


	12. Chapter Twelve

Laura cried until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Frank carried her upstairs and laid her on his parents bed after Vanessa had turned down the spread. Vanessa pulled the spread over Laura and followed Frank from the room, leaving the door open slightly so she could hear if Laura needed her. 

"He lied to me," Frank said, going into his father's office.

"Who did?" Vanessa asked.

"Dad," Frank replied, opening up the file cabinet where McCormick's file should be. "The file he gave me had nothing in it about...about," he couldn't say it. Just thinking about it brought a picture of Joe to mind, his face contorted in pain as a butcher knife sliced off one of his fingers. Frank shook his head, trying to erase the image. He searched through the files until he found an unlabeled one. Pulling it out he looked inside. There were the missing parts of McCormick's file. Frank sat down at his father's desk and began reading. Vanessa sat quietly in a chair in front of the desk.

Frank had almost finished when the phone rang. He looked up as Vanessa picked up the receiver. "Hardy Investigations," she answered.

"Who is this?" Fenton asked, not immediately recognizing the voice.

"I'm Vanessa," she replied, smiling. "Hold on Mr. Hardy," she added, hearing the beep for call waiting. "Hardy Investigations," she answered.

"Put Hardy on the phone," snarled a voice.

Vanessa fipped on the speaker phone for Frank to hear. "Hello," Frank said, as Vanessa set the conversation to record.

"Where's Hardy?" the voice demanded.

"My father isn't here," Frank replied.

"Trying to find your brother, no doubt," the voice stated with a sardonic laugh.

"Why are you doing this McCormick?" Frank demanded, trying to stay calm.

"My father is dead because of your old man," McCormick replied calmly. "It's only fitting I take away his son."

"Then take me and let Joe go," Frank offered.

"Thanks for the offer," McCormick replied with another laugh. "But I've put far too much effort into torturing your brother to trade out now," he added. "Tell your old man I called. I just wanted him to know his baby boy isn't feeling so good."

"You're doing to him what you did to your other victims," Frank said dully.

"Oh, no," McCormick hastily assured Frank. "I'm having much more fun with Joe," he added, before hanging up.

Vanessa stopped the recording with a shaky hand and took the phone off the speaker. She handed the receiver to Frank, then ran from the room.

"Dad," Frank said into the receiver. "McCormick just called." He told his dad about the conversation.

"The address was a bust," Fenton replied thickly. Frank knew his father was having a hard time controlling his emotions. "I'm on my way home," he added. Frank told him about the knife and Tony McCormick then hung up. It wasn't worth the effort to yell at him about holding back on McCormick.

Frank put his elbow on the desk and tiredly buried his face in his hands. He didn't stay that way long because the phone rang again. It was Sergeant Riley.

"What's up, Con?" Frank asked.

"Chief Collig wants you down at headquarters now," he told Frank. "We got the guy responsible for messing with Joe's file. And this one's still alive," he added with a bit of sarcasm.

Frank told a pasty colored Vanessa where he was going and left for the police station. On his arrival he was sent to the interrogation room. Inside he checked out the prisoner. He was barely twenty-two years old with blond hair and green eyes. He was tall, about seven feet and easily weighed three hundred pounds, but the most noticable thing about him was that he was terrified.

"His name is Ralph Langford," Chief Collig told Frank, coming over to meet him. "He deleted Dr. Freemont's name on Joe's file and put in Wagner's."

Frank walked over and looked Langford in the face. He stared at him for several minutes trying to control the intense hate he felt for the man. "Why did you help McCormick?" Frank asked, deceptively calm.

"Langford swallowed. He didn't know if he should be more afraid of McCormick or of the young man before him. "I didn't have a choice," he finally replied, his eyes falling away from Frank and resting on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Frank demanded.

"McCormick said he'd kill me if I didn't," Langford stated.

"And you believed him?" Collig asked.

"Of course I did," Langford admitted. He looked up at Frank with sheer terror in his eyes. "He just had made me watch him kill Jim Cornett."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Langford's admission had cleared Joe of the murder charge but he had been unable to give a lead to either McCormick's whereabouts. Frank arrived home shortly after dark. He found both his parents in the living room.

"Where's Vanessa?" Frank asked, coming in and taking a seat across from his parents.

"I sent her home," Fenton replied. "She looked almost as bad as your mother."

"She really loves Joe," Frank told them. He then told them about Langford.

"I'm glad Joe won't have to worry about that," Laura said. "Now if we could only get him back."

"We will, honey," Fenton said, kissing her forehead.

"Dad, can you clear it with Jerry's dad so he can skip school tomorrow?" Frank asked.

"Why?"

"We're out of leads," Frank replied. "Langford is no help. Barnes and Blevins are both dead and neither McCormick can be found," he summed up the situation. "Jerry said he, Brad and Joe were all unconscious for a period of time on their hiking trip. I think that's when this case really began."

"And you want to check out the area," Fenton surmised, nodding his head in agreement. "I'll call Jerry's father now," he said, getting to his feet and going over tot he phone.

"It's all set," Fenton said, a few moments later, hanging up the phone . "Be at his house by dawn," Fenton told Frank.

Laura got up. "I'll go make some dinner," she said. "Then I want you in bed," she told Frank. He nodded his agreement.

Joe had no idea how long he had been left alone, but he was, once again, dry. He had started coughing, or tried to, but he quickly realized coughing with your mouth taped shut was one of the most miserable experiences he had ever encountered. He shivered. He was so cold. He knew the first frost of the year was close at hand. They had been talking about taking care of crops outside during a frost on the news for some time now.

He heard a sound and looked over at the old table. A huge rat was by it's leg, sniffing around for more of the bits of food the McCormicks had dropped earlier. His stomach growled and he closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep.

He awoke with a start sometime later as a large amount of water poured down over his head. "Wake up Sleeping Beauty," Paul said, grinning at him.

Tony was standing beside Joe, an empty bucket in his hands. "We decided it was easier to bring the water to you," he told Joe, setting the bucket down and picking up another. Joe closed his eyes, expecting it to be poured over his head also, but instead Tony stepped in front of Joe and threw it at his chest.

"Get the camera Tony," Paul ordered his brother. Tony stepped over to a back pack lying on the floor and pulled out an instant camera. He took a picture of Joe just as he started his muted coughing.

"Do you smoke?" Paul asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. Joe glared at him. He lit a cigarette and took a couple of puffs. Smiling, he looked over at Tony. "Bad habit," Paul said to him. "I really should quit." He stooped down in front of Joe and smiled up into Joe's frightened blue eyes. "This might sting a little," he said, pushing the lit cigarette onto the top of Joe's foot. The camera flashed as Joe winced in agony.

Paul stood up and punched Joe in the stomach. The camera flashed and Joe fell backwards. Paul put a foot on Joe's chest and stared down into Joe's eyes, now filled with pain . "One more, I think," he said, and jumped on Joe's chest. Joe saw the camera flash once again before his eyes closed and remained shut.

Paul looked over at Tony. "Leave'em on the the Hardy's doorstep," he instructed. Tony nodded, grabbed the pictures and put them in a manila envelope.

"Help me get him outside," Paul ordered Tony as he got ready to leave. "This chair has had it." The two of them disengaged Joe fromt he chair remains and hauled him outside into the cool night air. They tied him to a tree behind the cabin and went back inside. Picking up their things, they left the cabin and headed back to their car.

Paul dropped Tony off a block from the Hardy household. "Want me to wait?" he asked.

Tony shook his head and got out. "Nah, I'm gonna do some damage before I head in," he replied.

"You're really getting into this," Paul observed, grinning at his brother.

"Hardy killed Dad," Tony responded simply. "He deserves everything he gets," he added, getting out of the car. He closed the door and watched Paul drive off before heading for the Hardy home.

Tony crept into the Hardy's garage. He had decided to leave the envelope after he had finished fixing the brakes on the car he had seen the other Hardy kid driving. He pulled out a flashlight, switched it on and crawled under the car. Twenty minutes later he had finished. He reached for the flashlight but instead dropped the wrench on it and went rolling from under the car. He heard footsteps rushing toward the garage. He quickly got from beneath the car and grabbed the envelope. He rushed outside but stopped in utter amazement when he saw not Fenton and Frank Hardy but several of the Hardy's friends. He dropped the envelope and tried to make a run for it. He crashed through two blond-headed girls, knocking them down and ran toward the street only to be brought down in a tackle by the large blond one.

Hearing the commotion from within, Frank and Fenton left their barely touched dinner and raced outside. Laura phoned the police before following.

Frank reached the group first and stared in surprise. Callie, Phil and Biff had formed a circle around two people on the ground. Lying, face down, was Tony McCormick, and sitting on top of him was Chet Morton.

"He was messing with the brakes," Tony Prito said, coming out of the garage. He had gone in to see what the thug had been up to while Chet tackled the man.

"Where's Joe?" Frank demanded of Chet's captive.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Tony snarled. He started bucking and twisting. "Get this brat off of me."

"You should be under a ton of dirt instead of under Chet," Callie told him. Frank ran forward and grasped Tony's collar, pulling him to his feet as Chet stood up. Frank brought back his fist and belted Tony in the nose. The blood started pouring as Frank brought back his fist for another punch. Fenton rushed forward and grabbed hold of Frank's arm as it started it's forward momentum.

"Why did you do that?" Callie demanded of Fenton. "He deserves it and more."

"If he's unconscious, we can't learn anything from him," Fenton explained, not disagreeing with her.

"No!" a terrified shout interrupted the group. Everyone turned to look at Laura whose face had drained of all color. She looked over at Fenton, and collapsed. 


	14. Chapter 14

Fenton ran toher side as did Frank, forgetting about Tony and letting him go. He started to make a run for it but Chet and Biff grabbed onto him and held him fast. 

"She fainted," Fenton said, holding Laura's head.

"I'll go get the smelling salts," Callie volunteered and ran inside for them. While she was gone, Frank looked on the ground beside his mother and saw what she must have been looking at.

He picked up four photographs lying on the ground and looked at them. He grew deathly still, then stood and turned to face Tony McCormick. "You have one chance to get out of here alive," Frank told the man in a tone no one could ever mistake as a bluff. "Where is my brother?"

For the first time in his life, Tony McCormick was terrified. He had never seen anyone so filled with hate and anger in his life. Not even his own brother, Paul.

"Where?" Frank demanded, his expression nor voice altering from before.

"He..uh..he's in a shack," Tony told him. He cringed and tried to back up as Frank's unemotional face turned into a deep scowl and he took a step forward. "Honest!" Tony insisted, his voice high from fear. "Paul always took us there."

"Where's Paul?" Frank asked, as the sound of a siren grew in the background.

"We..we've got a room at the Bayport Inn," Tony told him. "Room 219."

Less than thirty minutes later, Tony McCormick was on his way to jail and Frank, Fenton, Biff, Tony and Phil were on their way to the Bayport Inn. Callie had stayed with Laura and the photos had been taken by the police as evidence.

"What were you guys coming over for anyway?" Frank asked as they neared the motel.

"You promised to keep us posted," Biff reminded Frank. "You never did."

"Sorry," Frank told his friends.

"Don't worry about it," Chet told him. "We understand." Frank smiled at him as Biff pulled his van into the parking lot. There were already six patrol cars there. When Frank, Fenton, and company exited the van, Seargent Riley came over to them.

"He's not here," Con told the group. "The clerk said he came in earlier tonight but left about twenty minutes later. He came back about thirty minutes ago and he never left. At least, not by the front," Con amended. "The room is a wreck. It looks like he just grabbed whatever he could and split."

"Can we check it out?" Frank asked.

Con nodded his permission. "We've put an APB out on his car. The receptionist said he was driving a '99 Subaru Legacy."

While the Hardys were busy looking for leads, Paul was on his way back to the cabin, fuming. He didn't think his brother would turn him in, but just to be sure, he was going to the cabin. Tony couldn't possibly tell anyone how to get there. Tony hated trips and usually fell asleep. He slammed the steering wheel in anger. He knew Tony had probably been caught, that's why he had left the hotel to go and see what was taking so long. When he had cruised by and seen the Hardys and their friends surrounding Tony, he knew he had to get out of town, fast.

When he arrived at the cabin he went out back and removed the ropes binding Joe to the tree. He dragged a semi-conscious Joe back into the cabin and pushed him to the floor. Angry at Fenton Hardy for taking his father, and now his brother, he started kicking Joe, shouting profanities about him and his family.

Practically frozen, on the verge of hypothermia and weak, Joe lay still and took the man's rage. Winded, Paul sat on the floor a few moments later and looked over at the trembling youth before him. "Tomorrow, you die," he promised Joe, hatred burning in his eyes.

Paul reached into the bag he had brought and removed a roll of tape. He pulled Joe's feet together and wrapped them securely with the tape. Then he pulled a quilt from the bag, which he had stolen from the motel, and laying down, covered himself up and went to sleep.

Back at the Hardy house, Frank lay awake in bed. He had started to drift off to sleep when something Tony had said hit him. A shack. It made sense, he thought, sitting up. He climbed out of his bed and flipped on the light. He started up his computer and connected to the internet. He pulled up a website for Pilfer's Mountain and clicked on a topography map for the location of Trail 109. He followed the route Joe and the others would have taken. There were three possible places he observed where the trail could be seen in it's entirety.

He pulled up an ariel view of the three positions. Zooming in on the second one, he could see a dirt road leading to a small house, a schack. He checked the third position to be sure he had found the right place. Like the first, the third was inaccessible by any form of road and no possible hiding places.

He pulled up a map of the highway nearest the dirt road and hit print. He then went to awaken his father. Returning to his room a few minutes later, he looked at the map, disconnected from the net and called Jerry who agreed to be ready and waiting in fifteen minutes.

Over two hours later, Frank, Fenton, and Jerry arrived at the shack. They parked away from the shack and made their way closer. Fenton peered in the window with Frank straining to see behind him while Jerry waited anxiously behind Frank.

Fenton saw Joe leaning against the side of the fireplace, beaten and bruised. McCormick had an open bottle of whiskey in his hand. He saw McCormick reach over and yank off the strip of tape which had been covering Joe's mouth. Joe opened his mouth wide for a deep breath of air because his nose was completely stopped up. As the air hit his lungs he began coughing. Over two minutes later, Joe had quit coughing and leaned his head back against the fireplace, watching McCormick warily to see what was next.

McCormick smiled at Joe, the way a cat would when playing with a mouse. "I guess you're thirsty, huh?" he asked in mock sympathy. He placed one hand behind Joe's neck and brought the whiskey to his lips. Joe clamped his lips together, and the whiskey spilled down his chin onto the straight jacket.

"You'd rather wear it?" McCormick asked, his eyes lightening up. "Fine," he said, and poured the remainder of the bottle on top of Joe's head. "I had wanted to play with you awhile. Take more pictures, send some souvenirs," he added with a small shrug. "But your old man's getting to close. So, I guess it will have to end now," he said, standing up and pulling a pack of matches from his shirt pocket.


	15. Chapter 15

Fenton didn't wait any longer. He rushed at the door, nearly knocking Frank over in his haste, and kicked it in. He threw himself at McCormick, knocking the still unlit match out of his hand and the two fell to the floor. Frank and Jerry, who had followed behind Fenton, helped subdue McCormick. 

"There's tape on top of the backpack," Joe rasped, before breaking into another fit of coughing. Jerry got the tape and helped wrap McCormick's hands and feet. Frank, meanwhile, released Joe from the straightjacket and tape which still bound his feet.

That evening, Joe lay in a bed at the Bayport Memorial Hospital. He had pneumonia and several bruises and abrasions but the doctor had assured him and his worried family and friends, he would be as good as new. Joe had spent most of the day sleeping and was now ready for company. Shortly after a light dinner of soup and crackers, he had been unable to eat anything else, Chief Collig, Con, Biff, Chet, Tony, Phil, Jerry, Callie, Vanessa and his family all gathered in the hospital room.

"So, who actually killed Cornett?" Chet asked.

"Paul did," Frank answered. "He wanted revenge against Mrs. Brown as well as dad and used the murder to frame Joe."

"What about Blevins and Barnes?" Jerry asked.

"That was Tony," Chief Collig said. "He gave a full confession when his brother was brought in today. Tony admitted to killing them but fingered Paul for killing Dr. Wagner. We already had a witness for Jim's murder."

"The guy who put Tony in charge of Joe's evaluation," Vanessa reminded the group.

"What I don't understand is why you confessed?" Con asked Joe, his face puzzled.

"Yeah," Callie agreed. "What made you think you could have killed Cornett?"

"Paul was trying to drive me crazy," Joe informed the group. "He planted receivers in my ears when Jerry, Brad and I went hiking. He then made recordings and played them over and over. The receivers were so far back in my ears, I actually thought I was hearing voices in my head."

Laura was crying and Joe took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "The voice kept telling me to rob Maxines. When I woke up and found the stuff they had planted in my drawer, I really thought I'd gone over the edge. Then, when Cornett was killed, the voices told me I had killed him. Paul and Tony had managed to drug me somehow. I was unconscious in the boy's bathroom the whole time. Anyway," he continued, "when I got to Corwin, I heard two of the orderlies talking. They sounded exactly like the voices in my head. I made the mistake of saying something to the doctor and then he decided to keep me drugged and remove the receivers so no one could find them later. He was going to arrange for me to hang myself but he changed his mind," Joe stopped and started coughing.

No one spoke until Joe had finished coughing and was breathing okay. Frank handed him a cup of water which Joe accepted gratefully.

"What changed his mind?" Vanessa asked.

"You did," Joe said, smiling at her. "And Frank. When you discovered the Maisieno, Tony realized the jig was up and kidnapped me. I don't really remember much about what happened," he said slowly, trying to remember. "I do remember a red-head trying to make me walk but I fell and that's it until I woke up in the shack."

The nurse came in and announced visiting hours were over. Everyone but Frank left. He was staying the night with Joe. Frank took the chair his mother had vacated. "I'm sorry little brother," Frank said softly, taking Joe's hand and absently rubbing his thumb back and forth across the top of it.

"For what?" Joe asked, his voice low. He was getting sleepy again.

"For not listening," Frank answered. "You told me you thought you were going crazy and I basically brushed you off."

"No," Joe denied, smiling up at Frank. "You listened. You even tried to convince me I wasn't. And you were right," he added. "Neither of us could have known what the McCormicks were up to. I know you're not omnipotent," Joe told Frank. "And we're brothers. We fight sometimes. But I knew, without a doubt that you would find me," he added, squeezing Frank's hand. "When it counts, you're always there for me. And I want you to know, I'll always be there for you too."

End


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